


Chasing Daybreak

by noblet



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, claude is so bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 00:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblet/pseuds/noblet
Summary: When he comes to, the monastery is a shell of its former self. Crumbled facades of the church greet him as he makes his way up, up, up the hill towards the main building. He runs up the stairs, skipping the blood-stained steps in twos and threes. Rusted weapons line the rubble of a long-forgotten battlefield. For the first time in his life, he is frantic. His head is spinning. The girl in his head stays silent.When he arrives, Claude is there.Claude isthere.You overslept, Teach,he says, as if they’d only been apart for a couple of hours.Pretty rude to keep a fella waiting like that, wouldn’t you say?





	Chasing Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> The title of course comes from one of the final songs on the Three Houses OST.
> 
> I haven't edited this super super thoroughly but I really wanted to post it now otherwise I know I'll never post it at all. I'll probably edit it tomorrow. So if you stumble upon this fic again with a different summary and a slightly tweaked story, that's why.

“You’re not normal,” his father tells him.

Normal. _Normal. _What the hell is normal? Byleth is too young to understand the implication of the word but too old to ignore the fact that something about himself is not Quite Right.

He spends his childhood waking up at 4 a.m. and marching for miles. He learns to swing a sword before he learns to write his name. He watches men die on the battlefield and watches them die again when he sleeps. 

It is not normal to be a child without a heartbeat.

His earliest memory is one in which he is standing at the edge of a large lake, watching the ebb and flow of the crystal water rise and fall along its bank. There is a girl where his reflection in the water should be. She stares at him expectantly.

They’re alone together, far, far away from the place where the mercenaries had set up camp. With tired eyes, she asks him who he is, who _ she _is, but the tide washes her away before he can respond.

♞

Byleth is almost as tall as his father when he thinks to ask his age. _ It doesn’t matter, _Jeralt says, and the conversation stops there, but still, he continues to wonder. 

It is not normal to not know how old you are, after all. 

He’s stronger now, one of the best mercenaries in their group. He has learned to become unflinching, fearless. He has killed more people than he can remember.

Nearly a lifetime has passed since he has seen the face in the water. As he grows older, she begins to appear again, this time in his dreams, the girl with green hair and even greener eyes. She talks to him, but the memory of her fades once he awakens.

♞

_ It’s almost time to start, _ the girl tells him and-

-he suddenly finds himself in a new world with a new job and a new purpose. Archbishop Rhea tells him that he is special, that he is different. With a firm voice, she tells him that he is destined for greatness, as if she can see the future, as if she knows more about him than he does himself. She looks at him as if peering into his soul.

Byleth accepts his duties because he has never been the type to argue. 

_ The new professor is not normal, _ the students whisper when they think he cannot hear them. _ He is too young. What could he possibly know? _

The arrogant ones challenge him to spar and Byleth agrees. He takes great care to defeat them but to not injure them. He understands their doubts. He has no credentials. He has no experience. They do not know who he is, or what he is destined to be.

On Sundays, when he is supposed to be resting, he trains. He picks up a bow and arrow for the first time in his life and shoots at sandbags until his arms are sore and his fingers bleed. 

Claude is eager to teach him. The Leicester Heir shoots his arrows three at a time, each one landing on their specified marks. He doesn’t even need to look at a bullseye in order to strike it.

_ The trick_, Claude tells him with a knowing smile, _ is to clear your mind. _

Byleth nods and tries again, but that trick has never worked for him. There’s always been the voice of the girl lingering in his mind.

♞

He chooses to head the Golden Deer. 

They grow strong together. He leads them on missions and he tries his very best to get them out alive, to help them grow tougher, smarter. Their lives are in his hands, after all. 

Claude stays a reckoning force at his side, arrows piercing their enemies from a hundred feet away. 

_ There’s something about him_, the girl, Sothis is her name, mutters in his head. _ There’s something special. _

Months pass and their strength grow exponentially. Except turmoil is bubbling up within the kingdom, and the church is growing more agitated. The air in the monastery is hostile. The three kingdoms grumble in concern.

They set out on their sanctioned missions every month, each revealing answers that just lead to more questions, fighting battles that lead to more unwarranted deaths. 

It never gets easier. To take a life is to kill a part of yourself as well. His soul grows harder, more callous. He no longer feels all that much. It is not normal to be this used to killing. 

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, Byleth supposes.

In war, perhaps cold is a good thing to be.

♞

The months come and go. Soon enough, the world as they know it has turned to chaos.

He is plummeted into a valley far below the monastery, and Byleth is certain that he has died.

For five years, he sleeps. 

♞

When he comes to, the monastery is a shell of its former self. Crumbled facades of the church greet him as he makes his way up, up, up the hill towards the main building. He runs up the stairs, skipping the blood-stained steps in twos and threes. Rusted weapons line the rubble of a long-forgotten battlefield. For the first time in his life, he is frantic. His head is spinning. The girl in his head stays silent.

When he arrives, Claude is there.

Claude is there. 

_ You overslept, Teach, _ he says, as if they’d only been apart for a couple of hours. _ Pretty rude to keep a fella waiting like that, wouldn’t you say? _

He’s older now. His hair is longer, his face more mature. His usual, unbridled happiness is now dulled by the realities of war. There is a sense of sadness hiding behind his calm demeanor.

_ I’m sorry, _ Byleth wants to say, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He’d abandoned the people that trusted him the most and there are no words to express his regret. 

_ You didn’t really think I’d given up on you coming back, did you? _

Claude approaches him this time, the same easy smile blooming across his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it used to. 

_ I didn’t protect you, _Byleth finally says. He’s shaking. His hands ball themselves into tight fists. The realization of what has happened finally hits him. 

Five years. _ Five. Years. _

Byleth is crying.

Claude embraces him suddenly, his reassuring touch keeping them in place, grounding him. An eternity passes, and they only move to separate once Byleth’s trembling ceases.

_ I know_, Claude mumbles, after a long while. His hands linger on Byleth’s shoulders. _ It’s alright. I know. _

_ Can you feel it? _Claude says, motioning to the view outside.

They look out the window upon the rolling expanse of the kingdom before them, of the abandoned towns and lives of the people sacrificed in the name of some wicked sense of justice and the other horrors that certainly lie beyond. Yet still, it’s a peaceful kind of quiet. 

_ A new dawn is finally here. _

♞

Edelgard dies by the blade of his sword and the war is finally put to an end. 

♚

Claude is the one to confess first. 

_ I have to leave, _ he says. There is a kingdom awaiting him, now. _ Nothing will stop me from coming back. There’s no way I’m gonna let you go. You know that, don’t you? _

Byleth nods. He’s never been much for words. He knows. Of course he knows.

_ I’ll be back before you know it, _ Claude reassures him, excitement in his eyes. _ We’ll only be apart for a short while. _

He takes a deep breath. _ I love you. With everything I am. _ That same warm smile that makes Byleth fall in love with him all over again. _ And the next time we see each other, it will be at the dawn of a whole new world. _

Claude kisses him then, and his lips are soft and his hands feel rough cupped around Byleth’s flushed cheeks. It is their shared gesture of relief, of peace, of hope, hunger, longing. 

If Byleth could help it, they would stay in this moment forever. He is tempted. The hands of time are his to command, after all. 

Their love story is one that is not normal. It is nearly unheard of for a love to be born in war. There is no love forged in times of tension that is strong enough to withhold the times of peace. 

They will learn. They have new lives to lead and new roles to fill. They will learn.

Byleth kisses him some more, presses their bodies so close together as if they are becoming one. He can feel Claude form a smile against his lips. This time, they are in no rush to pull apart.

They have a whole lifetime ahead of them, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> (comments are greatly appreciated)


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